Back From Thailand | Airport Horrors – Backpacking Thailand #3

My trip in Thailand is over. In fact it ended about a week ago, I’m just being lazy/recovering from the worst thing about travelling, and as it happens what this blog post is dedicated to; airports.

I know I’m not alone with this opinion, airports, and flying in general, sucks. The invention of teleportation couldn’t come soon enough in my eyes, something like in Star Trek, I’d love to be beamed to my location by Scotty. But unfortunately this isn’t the Star Trek universe, and because of this depressing fact we have to deal with airports in all their hellish glory. From people walking with about 5 too many bags so you can’t get past them and are stuck behind their pace of around 1.4 kmph (woah that was a mouthful), to having to run what feels like a marathon to actually get out of the place, or to your connecting flights; airports really are the bane of my existence, and you’re about to find out why.

It’s safe to say my airport experience was one of the worst. Missing my flight home by literally 5 minutes, absolutely ridiculous I know, and therefore having to spend an extremely gruelling 10 hours in this fear inducing hell on earth. Okay, maybe I’m being a bit over dramatic, but you get the picture, it was horrible. Not only that though, as you can well imagine flights from Thailand to the UK are rather expensive, £400 in fact, aka a whole lot of money to lose for just being a pathetic 5 minutes late. So, it was 8am (2am UK time) and I’m panicking like mad as I have no idea how, or when, I’m going to be able to get home. Initially I was told there were no flights to Birmingham until the next day, but then I had somewhat of a lightbulb moment and realised I could just fly to London and get the train to Coventry, so that’s what I did. Forgetting of course that I would have to negotiate the treacherous London Underground, at rush hour may I add, with all my bags, not good. It was a long process, highly inconvenient, definitely not good for the blood pressure, however; believe it or not, it was quite the adventure, and actually a good experience. Well, at least it makes a decent story, ey. Looking back I’m not actually sure how I passed the time in the airport, because the 10 hours didn’t actually feel that long, the fits of fidgety boredom were saved for the flights themselves, god I hate flying.

So yeah, I made it home. Not only did I make it home, but I made it home alive and relatively uninjured, to my family’s surprise. I’m pretty sure they were taking bets on how long I’d last out there, and to be honest, I don’t blame them. I hope you enjoyed this post, just a short one to let you know I’m back and will be writing about my various escapades in the very near future, so there’s something to look forward to. In the meantime be happy and keep smiling, Harrison 🙂

My family went to The Isle of Man in June (not as exotic as Thailand!) and we had a connection flight from Manchester to the island, half an hour after we were supposed to land at Manchester. However our flight from Exeter was already late, and we missed our connection by about 5 minutes as well. And it was the last plane that day, so we had a hotel organised for us by the airport (THANKFULLY!) But I understand what you mean, airports are such a pain…